Two Halves
by OieCuite
Summary: Christine De Chagny has been murdered, when Erik is thrust into a Cat and Mouse game with the killer, he learns that things are never what they seem.
1. Angels Flight

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, I do own Jacques, Maria Lawley, Bernard Lawley and the numerous other oc's in Two Halves. **

**This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful singing teacher, Leanne... **

**I'd like to thank Regina for her wonderful help, as my beta, Thank you much! **

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_Christine De Chagny. Beautiful, Charming, Sweet and loyal to that confounded husband of hers. _

_It was indeed a problem, one that would need to be fixed immediately._

The door to Christine's room was open, swinging gently, the light breeze spreading the room and lifting the curtains. The room was filled with snow white doilies and paintings of flowers, in the middle sat a large bed, with creamy sheets, stained with red.

Lying in the direct centre was an angel. A fallen angel with chocolate curls that framed her porcelain skin, her dark lashes upon her check, and her lips painted red. All colours it seemed had drained from her skin and the white lacy night dress that she wore rested about her. The morning was not a cold one, yet the angel on the bed was cold.

Ice cold.

The beautiful creature that had fluttered around the room just last night with a passionate energy, yet with rare grace, who'd greeted everyone with a smile and laughed and danced to her hearts content, now lay as still stone not an ounce of life in her.

Christine De Chagny was dead.

Her crimson blood had stained the sheets, her chest, for this angel had not left the world peacefully.

"_No! Please! What are you doing?" The terrified sobs only made things worse for a glint of silver raised above her and then all there was pain, ever lasting pain, she could hear nothing, see nothing, feel nothing but pain._

_She felt like screaming but found she could not, she cried out one last time "Erik… Angel." _

_The shadow looming above her stopped, she had not called for her husband?_

_One final stab and Christine spoke no more, her cry to Raoul had died upon her lips._

"Christine, My love, Are you awake…I've brought you breakfast... Christine?"

Foot steps sounded down the hall getting closer to the room, and then a silver tray clattered to the floor, the sound echoing.

**Five Days Later…. **

The infant in Raoul De Chagny's lap wouldn't stop howling, crying out for a mother who would never comfort him again.

It had been a very emotionally exhausting time for them both, the police of course had numerous questions that needed to be asked, and answers that Raoul didn't have.

He'd stayed in his home, with his infant son Jacques, trying to pacify the boy in the best way he could, ignoring the immense sorrow he already felt at the loss of his wife.

His life now was just mess of emotions, he hadn't slept since he'd found her….. So beautiful even in death. He had contacted all those whom Christine was close too, knowing that through gossip and the papers all the rest would find out on their own.

His son was proving to be difficult, needing constant care; care that Raoul was not good at giving. He hadn't been apart of the baby's life much before, a chance kiss once or twice before rushing out the door.

Raoul had often been away, and had led a busy life, hardly having time for the boy, but knowing that Christine would love him and care for him enough for the both of them.

But now that Christine was….. He couldn't even bring himself to say it.

Tears of human anguish fell down his cheeks, and he did nothing to stop them, hugging Jacques to his chest, Raoul sobbed out his pain, and somewhere… far off… Angels wept.

* * *

Raoul had pulled himself together enough the next morning, to bathe himself and shave. He dressed in clean clothes and managed to dress Jacques as well.

He planned on paying a very Dear friend of Christine's a visit someone who would be more suited to taking care of Jacques for now, until he was ready to hire a nanny for the boy, and when Christine's funeral had been taken care of.

His stomach tightened at the thought, a funeral meant him accepting she was gone. And he was not ready to do that, but he had to, and he would.

He knew that leaving his son in the care of another might not be the best thing, but right now; it was the only thing that he could think of.

He raised a shaky hand to tap on the large oak doors of the Lawley Mansion.

Jacques struggled in his arms, and he eased him into a more comfortable position at his hip and then cleared his throat, tapping on the door a little louder.

Raoul heard the clicking of heels against timber then a muffled shout; he strained to hear what was being said, scolding himself for being nosy. He moved closer towards the sound almost able to understand what was being said-

The door swung open, startling both man and child standing there.

They were greeted by Maria Lawley, a thirty-something woman of Italian descent. She had large dark eyes, and tanned skin, long black hair that was held in place with elegant clips and nets. She wore an emerald colored gown, which swished as it brushed the floor.

She had a very decided appearance, and looked; it seemed to Raoul, that there was a strange glint in her eyes as they settled upon Jacques. The look made Raoul's mouth go dry, and he suddenly forgot why he was standing on her doorstep.

She'd looked quite dangerous and Raoul had half a mind to just turn around and keep walking. But the look disappeared and was replaced by the kind woman that he remembered.

"Monsieur De Chagny, Welcome, please come in," She said kindly, reaching out and arm and beckoning him into her own.

The second he stepped in the door and he knew who had decorated. Dark curtains hung off the windows and a rug the colour of her dress on the timber floors. Dark oak cabinets stood behind her.

The one thing that seemed slightly odd in the house was a chandelier that hung from the ceiling, it was lit, making everything seem bright, yet the room itself seemed to scream for darkness.

"I am so sorry for you loss Monsieur… Christine was a very Dear friend to me…." She spoke the words with sincerity but something else lay underneath the words, something that Raoul could not quite decipher.

"Madame, I have come to ask for a favor. I… I need some time to properly mourn for my beloved wife and I do not see myself fit to take care of Jacques, for I am a man drowning in my sorrows, Madame and the boy should not have to suffer for that," He paused, and Maria waited patiently for him to continue.

"I would ask this of you, only because I know that Christine was very fond of you, and that she would trust you to take care of her son… our son…"

Maria's eyes lit up and she smiled, "Of course, Monsieur." She reached out and Raoul placed Jacques in her waiting arms "He will be wonderfully taken care of with us; you needn't worry about him at all. As soon as you are ready Monsieur, you may return."

Raoul nodded and weariness seeped from his body. "Thank you Madame, Thank you so very much." He took her free hand and pressed a kiss to it swiftly, then departed from the door, leaving a small suitcase behind him.

He was in a hurry that much was certain.

Marie looked at the boy in her arms and bounced him a few times, delighting in his giggles.

She smiled warmly, and then panic ripped through her.

A silver tear glistened at the corner of her eye, but she brushed it aside quickly, shaking her head as if to rid it of a horrible thought and then focused her attention on the giggling infant.

"Bernard… Bernard!" She called sharply, not wishing to speak with her husband, but knowing that she must.

Her husband appeared at the door. His black hair was speckled with grey and fell into his eyes. His eyes were blue, but red rimmed and it was apparent he had not slept for a few days.

He staggered into the room and Maria instantly stilled. He'd been drinking… again.

"Bernard… This is Jacques…. Christine De Chagny's son" She said pointedly, each word piercing.

Bernard gasped. "What have you done woman! What have you done!"

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Raoul who still stood on the steps of the Lawley's mansion, heard a somewhat smothered version of the conversation that played out inside.

"Murdered…… Christine De Chagny… You murdered ….. accepted her child!" He stumbled down the bottom step.

He didn't know who was speaking, but fear gripped him. The look in Maria's eye when she had seen Jacques sent Raoul into a spinning, shocking revelation. He felt a very dire need to turn around and kill the woman inside.

Maria Lawley had killed Christine… Had butchered his beautiful Christine. But he knew that he would never find the courage to do a thing about it, and he knew there was one person who would. Who'd bring justice for Christine?

As he climbed into his private carriage he ordered the driver in a low deadly tone. "To the Old Paris Opera House. "

"The one that burned down sir?" The driver asked obviously shocked.

"Yes," he said in a brusque tone. "That is where I wish to go. Hurry."

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	2. I bruise easily

Thank you for all of the kind reviews, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own phantom of the opera, but I do own Maria and Bernard Lawley, Jacques De Chagny, and the other numerous oc's that will appear in this fiction.

I'd like to thank my amazing Beta Regina! This fic would not be possible without her! Thank you so much darlin'!

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Maria Lawley often sat in their garden at night. When Bernard was asleep she found herself drawn to the place where she had hoped to raise her daughter.

During the day it looked like any other garden, of course it was much larger, and held shrubbery of every kind, several fountains and three carved wooden benches.

But at night, oh at night it came alive. It was a magical play ground and Maria found safety in its clutches.

She moved gracefully past a rose bush, reaching out tenderly to caress the rose's soft petals.

She inhaled quickly, then closed her eyes, dreading the moment she knew would come.

Finding the bench in the dark proved difficult, but it kept her mind off the terrible things she had and would commit.

She felt around for the edges, her fingers frozen in the night air and moving stiffly.

She heard a groan coming from the house and she turned her head only to quickly snap it back and shut her eyes tightly.

The groan was followed by a loud clatter, and then a thump and Maria fell to her knees sobbing and clutching a nearby statue.

"I am sorry, sorry, I am sorry…I did not want…I am sorry…so sorry."

She raised her head and found her eyes caught by the statue's cold unfeeling eyes. She opened her mouth in horror, of all things to be found at an angels feet.

The night was broken by an infants wail, and Maria got to her feet, putting as much space between her and the stone angel as she could.

Upon reaching the house, Maria went inside and collected Jacques from his room, her light feet hardly making a sound against the expensive carpet.

The door to her room was open by a crack and she peered in "Bernard?" She called tentatively, despite already knowing what awaited her.

The quiet dark was broken once more, this time by an unholy scream, and murder was once again called in Paris.

The charred opera house held only bitter memories for him. Memories of Christine's face as he'd led her from the catacombs, twisted in pain, tears painting her cheeks, she still wore the wedding dress. She still had it, hung in her wardrobe. Raoul added sourly, then as if he'd forgotten her dead, bowed his head and apologized to an unseen force.

He crept up the stairs that had once given way to the spectacular shows and splendid colour of the Opera Populaire.

As if by magic, he was suddenly surrounded by people, chattering people, excitement in their voices about their new opera. Two figures pushed past him, and he immediately recognized Christine and her friend Meg, each giggling, and pounding up the stairs _"Hurry or we'll get in trouble Meg"_Theirvoicessounding eerie anddistant, Then as soon as they'd appeared,they were gone, vanishing into thin air,andthe room was once again dark and empty.

Raoul brushed through to Christine's old dressing room, and once inside his senses were once again bombarded with an assortment of memories.

_"Raoul!_" Christine's young innocent face smiled up at him, and he felt himself being drawn to her. She disappeared again, fading out with that extremely excited expression. He clenched his eyes shut… No time for memories.

He brushed them aside, knowing he was here for a purpose, although that purpose wasn't very clear.

A thought came to him. What if he had misheard and Christine's death had not been the fault of Marie Lawley? What if Christine had been killed by her old music teacher, who had finally completely surrendered to madness and killed her out of jealousy?

Deep down he knew that not to be true. He owed it to the one man who'd ever had Christine's complete heart to inform him of her tragic death, and that the murderer still lived, and rather comfortably at that.

He knew he should feel worried, that his only son was with the Lawley's at that very moment, but he felt strangely secure, and that his son was safe in her arms.

Raoul noticed the smashed window then, and the tunnel behind he took a step towards it when he felt a presence behind him.

He spun around coming face to face with the Phantom of the Opera himself.

He no longer appeared as menacing as he had back then; his hair was longer, his eyes filled not with hate, but an intense sadness that made Raoul's insides clench.

Raoul opened his mouth to address him, but then realized he had no name to say. He'd been 'monster' in Raoul's eyes for so long, it seemed as though that was in fact his name.

But Raoul, although had show some courage in seeking him out, was never going to call him 'Monster' to his face again…

"Standing there gawking is not doing you any favors" The low growl that came from the Phantom's throat struck Raoul with a force.

"I beg your pardon Monsieur… I have… I have come to inform you….."

Raoul stopped, and with a sigh, he took in the man before him… He was already so sorrow filled that Raoul almost wished he didn't have to give him the news.

Confusion filled his mind. Raoul had been shocked and greatly depressed by Christine's death. Yet here he was, the widow, the one who should be tearing out his hair with grief, was worried about telling the man who loved her, the man who she loved that she was dead, the one who wasn't supposed to be a part of her life…

He shook his head and took a deep breath, "I have no name for you, but Christine did. She would often stare out her window, and I think that I always knew she was waiting for you to come and rescue her," Raoul was no longer concerned for his well being, he only cared that the Phantom was informed as lightly as possible.

He sunk into the stool that sat forlornly in the center of the room.

Erik stared at the one who had stolen Christine from him. When he'd heard the man enter, his first instinct had been to kill him. But something was telling him to listen to the boy. He was not himself, he was older, perhaps wiser; he'd seen pain recently, and the manner in which he spoke to him was unsettling.

"_I always knew she was waiting for you to come and rescue her…"_

Erik was completely taken aback by his words and he almost lost what little strength he had left to stand on his own two feet.

He stared at Raoul, wonder in his eyes, and Raoul gave him a weak smile.

"Yes, yes… She loved you. I know she did. As much as I loved her and willed her to return it, she couldn't, not as completely as she loved you. I was a fool to keep her and now it is too late"

Erik was struggling to comprehend anything that Raoul was telling him. But the first thing he noticed, the only thing that truly stuck out to him, in the sane part of his brain- the part that wasn't screaming out with joy that Christine had loved him- was that Raoul spoke in past tense.

Raoul sensed the confusion in Erik and turned his face towards him again.

"I am sorry… but… Christine…Chris… Christine was…" He couldn't put two words together and it was deeply frustrating Erik.

His Christine loved him, and the fool who had taken her away was saying that he shouldn't have married her. It was simple, yet so confusing…

"Christine was murdered…. Six days ago…."

Raoul sobbed then, saying the words aloud had cemented them in his memory for good.

She was forever gone to him and he wept.

He didn't see the strange man behind him pale drastically, and then stagger back wards. Nor did he see the pure anguish that played out on the man's face.

When he did turn to see the broken man he knew that the tears, the sadness he'd felt for his Christine, could never compare to the torture that the man before him was feeling now.

He'd been lucky, he'd had Christine, and they had a son, something to always remember her by, but Erik… No Erik had nothing.

Raoul was surprised by his compassion towards the Phantom, yet he did nothing to hide it. He stood there awkwardly, as if he was intruding on something. His tears had dried on his cheeks and he felt the raw grief he had felt fade into numbness.

Erik on the other hand, was soaking in the pure, raw, tortuous grief that had come from his beloved angel's death.

"This world was far too ugly for her, she has returned to her heaven, where she will be surrounded by beauty to match her own," He stuttered, his sentences making little sense to Raoul. He turned to go, but then the Erik he remembered, the one with a noose glaring down at him had returned.

"Murdered…. Have they caught her killer?" He growled and Raoul shook his head.

"No… No… I think I may know… who killed her" He said, courage returning once more.

Erik was no longer in the right state of mind anymore "You think you may know…?"

Raoul gritted his teeth "I know who killed her."

"Yet you have done nothing? Ordered the fools of the city to deal with her… I suspect you think this is enough?"

Raoul nodded "I have done nothing, but I do have a plan. I have no proof, nothing that the police will listen too…. No connections, Nothing. They'll write it off, and she will get away with murder"

"She?"

Raoul nodded quickly, "Maria Lawley…. Jacques is with them, and when I was leaving, I heard her say that she had k-killed Christine"

Raoul was doing everything in his power not to collapse in grief, and instead held his head high, and clenched his jaw.

Erik on the other hand, was doing little to conceal it. "Jacques?"

This was not the Erik, that Raoul remembered, the one who always had something to say, and a calm exterior. This man was broken, and what Raoul was about to say next, could only cause him more pain.

"Yes, Jacques. Our son"

Erik contemplated this in his corner, and Raoul didn't wait for that last sentence to sink in.

"I do not know for certain…" He rushed on "Maria..." he struggled to find the right words "I have no proof that it was Maria, only what I heard, and that could go any number of directions"

Erik stepped back into the light and studied Raoul for a moment "Why did you come to me?"

Raoul straightened his back "Because Christine…. because you needed to know, and I need your help. You are the only one I trust."

Erik nearly laughed "Trust? You trust a _monster_, Monsieur?" He spat bitterly.

"I trust the man Christine _loved_!"

Erik stared at him, as the young man continued, in a stern voice that surprised them both.

"I have accepted that Christine loved you, and I have to come to you to make her murderer pay. Now, you can turn me away and go back to sulking in your caves or you can help me find and destroy her killer! I am asking you in desperation; I would not have troubled you otherwise."

Erik closed his eyes "What would you have me do, Monsieur?" He said with a resigned sigh.

Raoul nodded his head slightly in thanks "I do not know for certain, whether it was Maria, or if she knows who the killer is… I do, however, know that she is involved."

"I am not one for riddles, De Chagny. What would you have me do?" Erik snapped.

"I need you to get Maria Lawley's defenses down. Befriend her, make her talk, get her to admit she murdered her, or tell us who did."

"Befriend her! And why, may I ask, have you asked me to do this" Erik felt his anger growing with each breath he took, his fingers twitched and reached automatically for the lasso he knew was curled at his waist.

Raoul turned his back, what was left of his courage was ebbing away slowly. "Because Christine needs you to."

As soon as the words left Raoul's mouth, Erik knew he would do what the boy asked, whether he agreed or not.

Raoul did not wait for Erik to speak again.

"I have to leave for London, tomorrow evening. Madame Thompson would wish to hear the news from me, not a telegram. She was a dear friend to Christine…" Raoul lowered his head sadly "I have written a letter, stating that you are a distant cousin, and will be taking care of my estate until I return."

Erik nodded quietly "And what of your son?"

"I know that he will be safe with Maria, there was some horrible business eight or nine years ago…Maria lost her only daughter and I know that she would never harm a child. If I had any doubt I would not have left him." Raoul started towards the door, turning himself back to face Erik.

"Thank You"

Erik only nodded all control over his emotions was fast disappearing. "Erik…My name is Erik," He whispered.

A faint smile crossed Raoul's lips. "Thank you, Erik."

And then he was gone, leaving Erik, the man and monster, alone once more.

"My Angel."

He whispered disappearing through the shattered window, down into the depths of his home.

_"My Angel."_

Maria backed away, towards the door, her face a blank one of horror. Jacques started to scream again and she rocked him steadily trying to calm him, or perhaps to calm herself.

Her eyes flickered to her husbands still form, and she clutched Jacques tighter too her chest.

She thrust herself out the door, sliding down the halls trying to stop herself from hitting the various cabinets as she ran.

Upon reaching the heavy oak doors she pounded on them, screaming out her husbands name in agony, pulling the doors open she inhaled sharply the cool night of the air hitting her, she forced herself down the steps, and then screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Somebody help me! Oh God! Someone please help!"

Jacques own cries grew louder and several lamps lit in the houses adjoining her own.

She cried louder, "Please, somebody please help me!"

With heaving sobs she fell to the ground, crushing Jacques to her chest.

"Please, my husband is dead…my husband is dead"

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**Please Review, they keep me going ;) **


	3. Lies make the world go round

**I want to Thank Regina for betaing this chapter for me! Thank's Darlin'!**

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You killed daddy…_

Maria plastered a smile on her face, as her fingers hurriedly buttoned Jacques clothes.

She was determined to go on with life as usual, and had brushed away all the offers from her neighbors. She'd only just gotten rid of Annabelle and Penelope, the two elderly women from down the road, who had been intent on relieving her of Jacques, until she had time to think.

She'd lost her temper then, and screamed at them to leave.

"I am quite capable of taking care of my own child!"

Of course, it wasn't until after they'd left, astounded, that she noticed her mistake.

Jacques was not her child.

There was another sharp knock at her door, and she threw up her hands in exasperation, "What in heaven could they possible want now. Can't they just leave a woman to mourn in peace?" She rubbed her eyes tiredly, scratching her eyelid with her nail as she did so.

Tears instantly pricked her eyes, and she growled in frustration, reaching for a handkerchief with one hand the door handle with the other.

On her front step stood Raoul De Chagny and she nearly fainted with surprise and worry.

Raoul took in her appearance, she was distraught, and was dabbing the white silk at her eyes.

"Monsieur De Chagny, I'm sorry… Can I help you?" She said her voice shaking; she opened the door wider, gesturing for him to come inside.

He opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cried out louder. She bustled out of the room and returned a few moments later with Jacques in her arms.

"I am just about to feed him, please come in," She said briskly, tapping Jacques on the nose.

Raoul entered the house somewhat stiffly, his anger flaring, he managed to control his rage and said politely "I wish to speak with your husband, is he in?"

The glass bottle in Maria's hands fell to the ground, shattering in a thousand pieces.

Trembling Maria turned to face him, horror and distraught on her face.

Raoul lurched forward and bent down to help pick up the shattered glass "Forgive me, is there something wrong?"

Maria managed to regain some control and inhaled sharply.

"Monsieur, my husband is dead."

Silence greeted her.

"He was found…dead…last night, the doctors say… oh" Her voice cracked and she set Jacques in a small cradle, turning back to Raoul "They say he just died, a heart attack. I wasn't even there when he died…I was…I was feeding Jacques, he was hungry and Oh…" She started sobbing, her shoulders moving with the effort.

Raoul stood, feeling out of place and confused, awkwardly he rested a hand on her shoulder.

He watched as Maria managed to compose herself "It's odd. That my

Bernard and Christine… both…" She couldn't finish her sentence, but straightened her back and drew a deep shuddering breath.

"Perhaps it's best if you leave now."

Raoul turned towards the door, utterly confused by everything, calling out over his shoulder.

"I came to inform you my cousin has come to stay in my home for a few weeks, I have asked him to bring some of Jacques things, so that it might be easier for you"

Maria nodded "Of course, that's fine. Thank you."

With that her front door was slammed shut, and Maria and his son disappeared from sight.

Raoul gave a frustrated sigh and climbed into his carriage, his eyes never leaving the Lawley's mansion.

Maria was proving to be a very good actress, though he was starting to feel that she was not responsible for Christine's death, but defiantly involved.

He hoped that enlisting Erik's help had been a wise choice, but he hardly had time to think now. Everything was already in motion and a certain Meg Giry or…Thompson now, was awaiting his arrival in London.

He cast a final glance through the front window, where his son's innocent eyes stared back him, being cradled by a woman who appeared cold and uncaring, watching the carriage leave with an eerie interest.

The carriage had arrived at the Opera House, no earlier then nine the next the morning, with an anxious Raoul leaping out of it the second it was within ten meters of the stone steps.

Clutching to the small white envelope in his hands like it was a life line, Raoul entered the empty opera house once more.

Standing upon the staircase, mask firmly in place, was Erik.

Raoul smoothed his fingers over the envelopes edges, trying to forget of the last time Erik had stood upon those stairs.

It was nothing something he wished to remember, the first time The Phantom had graced the opera with his presence, seeming so in control, calm, cruel…

He was the opposite now, grief sagged at his shoulders, and his manner was not one of confidence.

Raoul could understand that and held out the letter, waiting for Erik to reach and take it. Erik did so with shaking fingers, and nodded thanks towards Raoul.

The two men fell into an odd step and when they reached the doors, Erik held back, ducking his head, as if afraid of the light.

Raoul was at a loss, he feared the man before him… Erik had tried to kill him! Yet, now he found himself trying to console him, and help him overcome fears.

He shook his head, wondering briefly what the world was coming for, then pushed the heavy doors open, and walked down the steps on his own, opening the carriage door.

If the driver had any questions regarding the strange masked man, or why he was being brought from a supposedly abandoned opera house, he showed no response at all, facing towards the front, reins in hand, as if this was an every day occurrence.

Erik raised his shoulders, pushed his fingers through his thick dark hair and strode to the carriage, and the Phantom that Raoul remembered was back in an instant.

The carriage ride was silent, apart from the noise of the horse's hooves clicking against the ground, and the soft bounces when the carriage hit a bump in the road.

When there were nearing his home, Raoul started talking at a fast pace, getting far more anxious with each round of the wheel.

"I have informed Maria Lawley of your arrival, inside that envelope has her address and any information you may need to know as a cousin of mine. You have free reign of the house, until I have returned, but Christine's room remains locked"

Erik would have smirked then, for it seemed as though the tables were turned. Now Raoul was in his element, and it was his home now, that was being invaded by the other.

Raoul pushed into his coat pocket and dug out a ring of keys "These unlock the front door, and all the rooms with locks on them." As he spoke he removed one of the keys and slid it back into his pocket.

Erik noticed this but said nothing, guessing that the key was for Christine's room. No matter, if he wanted to get into the room, not having the key wouldn't be a problem. He didn't see the point in bringing this up, so he kept quiet.

He was slightly surprised when the carriage came to a halt and the door was held open by the driver, staring at everything and anything except

Erik.

This angered Erik to no end, but he focused on the matter at hand and followed Raoul up the marble steps of his home.

Raoul muttered a quick farewell, handing him a slip of paper with Meg

Thompson's address in case he was needed, before climbing back into the carriage and rounding the corner, leaving a slightly bewildered Erik alone.

Once inside the large house Erik inspected every room, every corner, imagining Christine with a smile on her face entertaining guests in the living room, or descending the stairs in the main hall.

Every where he looked he saw her, her angelic face, smiling at him, and fluttering about.

On the second floor were the bedrooms, he ignored the guest rooms entirely for now, and cast only a glance into Raoul's room. When he saw the only closed door of the house, he knew that it was hers.

He approached it cautiously, yet, enthralled, drawn to it like a moth to a candle.

His hand reached out slowly for the brass doorknob, his fingers curling about it and turning.

The door opened easily, surprising him. Hadn't Raoul said it was locked?

It didn't matter, taking a step forward Erik entered the room that could have belonged to no one else but Christine. Instantly an image of his angel writhing in pain, her fingers clutching at the snow white sheets, her eyes clenched shut, tossing and turning.

He backed up against the wall, his own eyes wide with horror.

There she was again, in the corner, her eyes blank and emotionless, and her silk gown billowing about her figure. She reached out her arms, moving forward, each jerky step after the other, as if she did not control her own body.

He shut his own eyes, sinking to his knees and holding his head.

When he could no more movement in the room, he opened his eyes, relieved to find it empty.

He rose to his feet and started for the door, beginning to see just why

Raoul told him not to enter the room.

Something brushed past his back and he spun around, coming face to face with Christine, her hands clutching at a silver knife, plunged deep in her stomach.

She stared at him, mouth open, and tried to free herself from the knife. "Erik….Erik….You let me die!" She screeched before fading into nothing.

Erik let out his own cry then, and pushed his way out of the room, in the hall and finding himself backed against the wall.

"Hello? Monsieur?"

Erik's head jerked to the direction of the voice, instinctively reaching for his lasso.

"I'm here to pick up some of Jacques things; Raoul said you were taking care of the house for him. It's a very nice thing to do, the poor boy, loosing his young wife."

Upon reaching the top of the staircase Erik realized with a shudder that this was Maria Lawley.

She stood at the door, a small child resting on her hip, dressing in emerald green, her hair swept up out of her face and a look in her eyes that Erik found familiar.

He gathered his wits, banishing the thoughts of what he'd just encountered and descended the stairs a false smile on his face.

He was playing a part, and he'd do best to remember it his conscious mind screamed at him.

"Mademoiselle," He said upon reaching her, taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her gloved knuckles swiftly.

She didn't seem affected by his mask at all, and smiled sweetly "I am

Maria Lawley, please call me Maria though. I could never stand formalities. Oh and I'm not sure if you've met this one, but this is Jacques." She bounced the boy on her hip and Erik smiled.

He looked so much like his mother with dark curls and innocent blue eyes.

"I am Erik," was all he offered, but she made no objection.

"Well Erik, As I said, it is very kind of you to do this for Raoul, he did need to escape the memories in this house."

Erik just nodded, his smile was a strained one, and he was not entirely used to it, although he supposed until he figured out what he needed too, he'd have to learn to smile easier.

"Oh yes, I'm here to get a few things of Jacques, see… my husband just recently passed away and I haven't been able to bring myself to enter his room just yet…"

Erik's started to pay better attention. Her husband was dead? Either Raoul had forgotten to inform him of that fact, or she was lying.

He hoped for Raoul's sake that she was lying.

"And …well Jacques bag is in the room…I know its silly." She had a faint smile, and then snapped herself out of her thoughts.

"I'll go and get the things I need, no need to trouble yourself" She pushed past him without another word and disappeared up the stairs.

When she returned a moment or two later, a bag in her arms, Erik wondered curiously exactly what it was she had gotten.

As if reading her thoughts she juggled the bag in her right hand, holding tighter to Jacques with the other "just a few toys, clothes and other things. Thank you." She took a step out the door, and then paused as if considering something, then turned back again.

"Erik, would you like to join me for dinner in a few days… I had a dinner part planned, but…" She lowered her eyes and then raised them again "I wasn't expecting my husband to leave me on my own so quickly." She said lightly. Erik could sense the sorrow which lay underneath her words.

"You seem intelligent; it might be nice to speak with someone who doesn't reply with 'Did you hear about.' It's alright if you don't wish to attend, but I would rather like it if you did." Erik seemed to ponder this for a while, knowing that this could be the chance to get closer to her, but a room full of socialites was not exactly what he wanted.

He once again forced a smile to his lips "Of course."

Maria smiled and turned her head at an odd angle, studying him "I shall send a carriage for you on Tuesday then, Good day Erik."

When he was once again alone in the house, Erik let the smile drop from his face and making his way to where he'd seen several guest rooms, quickly chose the one farthest from Christine's room.

He willed the ghosts to let him be, and despite the sun still being out, he drew the curtains plunging the room into darkness, and found himself in a restless sleep.


End file.
